


Solstice Magick

by eilonwy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Advent Calendar, Community: dhr_advent, Drama, F/M, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Holidays, Humor, Magic, Partnership, Potions Class, Romance, Winter Solstice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-29 19:22:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5139623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eilonwy/pseuds/eilonwy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A potions assignment on the eve of the Winter Solstice sends the sixth-years into the Forbidden Forest.  What strange, arcane magic will they find there?  Written for the 2015 D/Hr Advent Calendar.</p><p>Prompt: cranberries</p><p>Dedicated to the memory of the brilliantly talented Alan Rickman, who gave us the quintessential portrait of Severus Snape, along with countless other memorable characters on the stage and in film.   He left us far too soon.  14 January 2016</p>
            </blockquote>





	Solstice Magick

  
  
  
  
  
20 December 1996  
Friday  
Sixth year  
  
  
Arms folded across his chest, Severus Snape eyed the sixth-year potions class with dismay. Reluctantly, he'd agreed to fill in for his successor, who was currently suffering from a nasty head cold with a holiday party to host that evening. There wasn’t a truly gifted potions-maker in the bunch, with the possible exception of the one student who irritated him more than all the others combined. And there she was, waving her hand madly once again. She’d have the correct answer, he had no doubt.

With a dismal sense of inevitability, he nodded in her direction. “Yes, Miss Granger?”

“ _Viscum album_ , or European mistletoe, also known as Devil’s Fuge!” Hermione smiled in satisfaction. She’d been the only one to raise her hand. Probably the only one who’d done the homework assignment properly as well. 

“Properties, Miss Granger?” Snape droned on, mentally counting the minutes until the class was over. He knew she would have the answer to that question as well and would launch into it on her own, given about ten seconds, but force of habit and duty compelled him to ask it anyway. The dunderheads that constituted the majority of the class would need the information, and it might as well come from her. 

Now Hermione was in her element. “Well, it’s an evergreen, first off. It’s a parasite as well. It takes hold on shrubs and tree trunks and its seeds work their way inside the bark to colonise from within as it grows. All parts are highly toxic. It can cause blurred vision, seizures, nausea, vomiting, and diarrhea.”

Somebody in the back of the room snickered, and almost instantly, Snape was there, hauling the unfortunate student up by the scruff, his face only inches from his victim’s. 

“Think that’s funny, do you, Mister Boot? Have you ever suffered bouts of diarrhea so debilitating that you could barely stand? No? Well, _that_ is precisely what will happen if you are stupid enough to eat even one berry from the mistletoe plant. I suggest you pay careful attention and exercise control over your infantile impulses from here on.”

Then he turned to the one student who was his hope for a half-decent performance in this class besides Hermione Granger.

“Mister Malfoy. Is there anything else _you_ can tell the class about the properties of the mistletoe plant?”

Draco Malfoy had been busy doodling in the margin of his parchment, giving his artistic creation his full attention and congratulating himself on the likeness he’d drawn of the tall, gaunt, black-haired professor. ‘Not half bad,’ he’d told himself, assessing the finished product. A sharp poke in the ribs got his attention. He turned to look at his desk partner. Theo was gesturing silently, tilting his head in warning. 

Too late.

“ _Mister Malfoy._ ” There was a grating edge to Snape’s voice now. He didn’t much fancy being shown up by the one decently intelligent member of his own house.

“Sorry? What was the question?” 

The entire class groaned mentally. Not a good answer. But Draco turned a confident smile in Snape’s direction. He knew he was his head’s favourite and he basked in the warmth of that knowledge.

“I said. What are. The other properties. Of mistletoe. If you please.” 

It was painful to watch what was unfolding, especially as everybody in the room was well aware of the favoured place Malfoy held in his head of house’s esteem. When Snape’s delivery was reduced to staccato bullets, the whole class was in deep shit, not only the offending student. Things would only go south from here.

“Mistletoe? Uh… the stuff that people kiss under, yeah?”

He gazed up at Snape, who was looking down his long, aquiline nose at Draco, his brows beetling with disapproval. Refusing to dignify the question, he waited, disgust and impatience emanating in bristling waves.

“Well…” Draco scrambled to recall the homework he had merely glanced at the night before. “It’s… poisonous. Yeah, that’s it.”

Well, that was something, anyway. He breathed a small sigh of relief. However, Professor Snape was not through with him, it seemed, still standing a bit too close for comfort. Draco swallowed hard and waited for the other shoe to drop.

“Poisonous. Ah. At last, an answer with a semblance of substance, never mind the fact that Miss Granger just told us that not five minutes ago. Now, then. Can you tell the class, Mister Malfoy, just what that toxin is called? If you don’t mind, that is.” Snape’s voice dripped sarcasm, and everyone knew just how much trouble Malfoy was in. 

At that, a familiar hand in the front of the classroom shot up and began waving frantically. Snape studiously ignored it, continuing to gaze at Draco with barely concealed disdain.

The full weight of his head of house’s wrath was beginning to sink in. Desperately, Draco racked his brain for the proper name of the toxin. The seconds ticked away, seeming to pass as slowly as dripping molasses; all the while, Snape’s scrutiny never wavered. 

“Bloody hell, he’s really sticking it to Malfoy this time,” Ron whispered to Harry. “Don’t remember ever seeing him ride the little wanker this hard.”

“Me either,” Harry muttered. “Not that he doesn’t deserve it. Glad it’s not me.”

That was a sentiment shared by the entire class, all of whom were beginning to squirm by this time. If they could have, they’d have Vanished themselves, anything to get away from those piercing, black eyes. 

At last, Snape sighed rather melodramatically. “It appears, Mister Malfoy, that my question was too taxing. Clearly, we have had all we are going to from you at the moment. Therefore, you will prepare an essay for Monday, two feet of parchment if you please, describing in detail the toxic properties of _Viscum album_. 

“Now.” He turned to face the class, his faint smile glacial. “You all realise, no doubt, that tomorrow is the Winter Solstice, also known as Alban Arthuan or Yule. It is a deeply magical time. Your assignment for Monday will be to locate mistletoe, traditionally sacred to our Druid ancestors and to wizards and witches everywhere, and various parts of the cranberry plant. Perhaps you have studied it in Herbology?”

Their vacant expressions told him that they had not.

“ _Vaccinium oxycoccus_ ,” he said, enunciating the words very crisply. Then he paused, his eyes sweeping over the room. Anyone who had begun to drift now sat up a bit straighter. Not one snigger, not even the hint of one, could be heard, despite the regrettably suggestive name.

“We are fortunate, here at Hogwarts, to have a rare and magically potent species of cranberry plant with very particular properties of enchantment. It blossoms only on one night of the year – the night of the Winter Solstice – and on that night, only for one hour before and one hour after the actual Solstice itself. Its potency peaks at that time, and it will produce both flowers and fruit for those two hours only. For the purposes of this assignment, which Professor Slughorn will continue when he returns, you will need to gather both the flowers and the fruit. You are to bring back a sampling of mistletoe as well, but it must be mistletoe growing alongside the cranberry. Wear gloves when you handle the plants, the mistletoe in particular. Take care not to touch it with your bare hands. 

“As the Solstice will arrive tomorrow morning before dawn, you will go into the Forbidden Forest tonight in assigned pairs to conduct your search. No one is to go alone or to separate from his or her partner under any circumstances. I will be patrolling throughout the night; you need only send up a flare from your wand if you are in trouble. Firenze and his centaurs will be close by as well, should you need help. You will know the precise moment of the Solstice if you are observing the cranberry plant. I will expect not only a sampling of specimens, but a written report fully documenting your experiences as well. We will gather at midnight by the entrance to the Great Hall. Now. Listen carefully for your name on this list…”

At that point, Snape began to read aloud, but the only name Draco was interested in was the one he’d be paired with for this asinine assignment. No great surprise that Snape would be sending them all out into the Forbidden Forest, for fuck’s sake, making them sit there all night in the cold and damp, waiting for who the fuck knew what to happen. 

“Jones and Turpin. Longbottom and Bulstrode. Nott and Brocklehurst. Potter and Greengrass. Malfoy and Granger…”

Snape kept reading, but Draco ceased listening. Shit. That really tore it. Stuck with Granger all night in the frigid depths of the Forbidden Forest. Her and all her blather, all that Miss–Superiority-I’m–McGonagall’s-pet bullshit. She could just go shove that right up her arse. Fucking annoying little know-it-all. 

At dismissal, everyone shuffled out quietly, subdued by the gravity of the assignment. While in theory it was kind of cool to be roaming about the Forbidden Forest at night, most of them were actually feeling a bit jittery about the prospect, some more than a bit. Hermione lingered, but only briefly. One look at Malfoy’s face and she decided the better part of valour would be to wait until he didn’t look quite so murderous. Slipping out the door, she hurried to her next class. 

Draco was scowling as he headed towards the exit, hunched over and glaring daggers at the floor, wishing it would just swallow him up. Not only had Snape humiliated him with that third-degree, he’d also been stuck with the worst possible partner for the assignment. That was punishment enough, he thought darkly.

He had one foot in the corridor when Snape stopped him.

“Mister Malfoy. Draco. I was surprised and disappointed to discover that you were unprepared. Not only that, but you were not paying attention either. That isn’t like you. I must warn you, such a lack of commitment to your studies will most certainly reflect itself in your grades. Are you not concerned about such an eventuality?”

Draco shrugged. “What’s the difference? Before long, it won’t matter anyway.”

Severus Snape’s eyes narrowed. “Exactly what do you mean by that?”

“Just that things are changing, aren’t they. Soon, nothing will be the same. Grades won’t matter. Nobody will be taking NEWTs.” He laughed briefly, mirthlessly. It was a hollow sound. “I think you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

The answer was intentionally vague, but it boded very ill. Snape moved a step closer, dropping his voice to a near-whisper and frowning.

“What is it you’re involved in? Are you in some sort of trouble, Draco?”

“That's none of …" Gritting his teeth, Draco checked himself. “Busy. That’s all. Working on a project of my own.”

“A project of your own. I see. Clearly, this so-called 'project' has interfered with your schoolwork, which has been slipping noticeably of late. As your head of house, I must warn you: such a downward spiral cannot continue. I needn't remind you of the consequences, should that happen." The potions master laid a heavy hand on Draco's shoulder. "Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, Professor. Quite clear. Thanks for your concern. Must get on, I’ll be late to class.” And with that, Draco exited the potions classroom, sprinting down the corridor, eager to get away from those relentless questions. Anyway, he had a far more important concern. And he wouldn’t have a lot of time to devote to it today, if he had to traipse into the Forbidden Forest later and spend virtually the whole night there with Granger. Best get as much done as possible on the project now. He'd just have to skive off his next class.

Watching him disappear around the corner, Severus Snape frowned and shook his head slowly. He did not like the sound of what he’d just heard. It was worrying. He would need to speak to Draco again before too long. There was a promise to be kept, a vow to be honoured.  
  
  


*

  
  
  
Slughorn's holiday party that evening had been a disaster. Hermione had gone with Cormac McLaggen. Not at all her taste in men, but Ron had been really stupid once again and she was fed up. Not only stupid, but also incredibly insensitive and immature, all that very public carrying on with Lavender Brown. Ugh. However, Cormac hadn’t been any better, grossly pawing at her beneath the mistletoe. She’d left the party early, disgusted and all the more eager to embark on the potions assignment. A night in the Forbidden Forest was sounding very appealing right about now.

By midnight, most of the class had arrived, some of them slightly the worse for wear after parties they’d just left and others looking as if they’d just roused themselves from sleep. Everyone carried rucksacks with parchment, quills, and containers in which to store the collected samples. Hermione watched anxiously for her partner, but for several long minutes, she saw nothing of Draco. Earlier that evening, he’d been caught trying to crash Slughorn’s party and hauled off by Snape for a private chat. Those at the party who’d been in potions that afternoon assumed it had to do with what had happened in class and thought no more about it. Hearing about it now, she assumed the same.

Finally, at nearly ten past twelve, Draco turned up, looking distinctly irritated.

“About time!” Hermione whispered. “I thought you were going to ditch me!”

“Don’t think I wasn’t tempted,” he replied curtly. “I can think of about a thousand things I’d rather be doing right now.”

She rolled her eyes, expelling an exasperated sigh. “Look, Malfoy, I didn’t ask to be partnered with you. You’re not exactly my first choice either, you know. If I can deal with it, so can –” 

“Right, ladies and gentlemen, time to get started,” Professor Snape’s sonorous voice interrupted. “As I told you, I’ll be patrolling throughout the night. Everybody has his or her wand, I presume?”

Nods all around. 

“Very well. Follow me, and keep those wands up.”

They passed through the great oak doors, “ _Lumos!_ ” echoing in a ripple as a wall of frigid night air hit them all in the face.

The group moved forward several yards en masse and then pairs began to splinter off in different directions, their lighted wands like tiny, white fireflies in a darkness that was nearly palpable.

“I wonder what time the Solstice will happen?” Hermione murmured, dry leaves and twigs crunching underfoot as they walked. “Do you have any idea?”

“What do I look like, a walking encyclopaedia? Listen, Granger, let’s keep the talking to a bare minimum, yeah? I’m really not in the mood.” Glowering, Draco focused his gaze on the ground and strode on, determined to put some distance between him and his partner. The less he had to listen to her chatter, the better.

“Fine by me,” she snapped, pulling her hood up over her head and shoving her gloved hands deep into her pockets. 

The Forbidden Forest was just as creepy as she remembered it: gigantic trees clustered together, their twisted limbs like freakish arms, and a mist that hovered, heavy and white, just a foot or so off the ground. Disorienting and bone-chillingly cold, the mist managed to obscure possible landmarks and confuse the clearest mind. 

They walked for a while in chilly silence. Determined not to let Malfoy’s bad mood colour her own, she decided to focus on the task at hand and block him out completely.

“Snape said we’d find both shrubs growing together in profusion in the northwest quadrant,” she muttered. “So we must be almost there.”

“Not almost. We _are_ there,” Draco replied glumly. “Us and everybody else, probably.”

Surprisingly, contrary to his prediction, there was nobody else in the immediate vicinity, though they could hear voices echoing off the tall trees. Somehow, it was comforting, knowing that as deep and formidable as the darkness of this forest was, it could be penetrated. They weren’t alone.

There was a clearing just ahead, a moonlit opening in a stand of soaring evergreens. Dead centre, a giant oak stood, its immense trunk gnarled with great age. There was something about the tree that raised instant goose bumps on the back of Hermione’s neck. Glancing at Draco, she knew without asking that he was feeling it, too.

“Reckon this might be a good place to look” was all he said, but it was evident that there was just a glimmer of interest where there hadn’t been any earlier.

“Okay,” Hermione agreed. She set down her rucksack, taking out a small box that would hold the plant samples. Draco did the same. One box would hold cranberry fruits and flowers, the other mistletoe leaves and berries. Now to actually locate the objects of their study.

Draco had already begun walking about and scrutinising the flora growing thickly at the base of the oak tree. Reaching out to move some of the vegetation aside, he stuck a bare hand in amongst the clusters of leaves.

“Wait! You forgot your gloves!” Hermione came running up to where he crouched. “You might touch the wrong thing by mistake! Here.” She thrust a pair of gloves at him. “I brought an extra pair. They’re a bit big for me, so they should fit you.”

“I’m fine,” he began impatiently. "I don't –"

 _Gods,_ he was impossible! “Just wear them, okay?” she exclaimed. “Don’t be stupid. Did you find anything?”

He hadn’t, but there was so much to examine in just this one spot. It boggled the mind to imagine covering any sizable portion of this enchanted wood on a hunt for something that was relatively obscure, especially in the dead of night. “Fucking ridiculous,” he grumbled.

Pointedly ignoring his mutterings, she replied briskly, “You look for mistletoe and I’ll try to find the cranberry bushes. There should be pink flowers in bud now. They’re long and sort of droopy, on red stems surrounded by evergreen shrubbery. Snape said the shrubs would produce both flowers and fruit starting an hour before the Solstice and lasting until an hour after. So I suppose once we find them, we just wait, right? What time is it?”

Draco pulled up his sleeve to check his watch. “Half twelve. We’d best find the bloody plants so at least we’re in the right place when it happens, or we’re screwed.”

This was true. With renewed determination on Hermione’s part and grudging resignation on Draco’s, they resumed their search. Fifteen minutes later, she let out an excited cry.

“Here! I’ve found a cranberry shrub! A nice big one! Maybe, if we follow it very carefully, we might uncover some mistletoe as well!”

“No need.” Draco yawned lazily, gesturing toward a cluster of tiny, white berries in a large, spherical thatch of foliage. “I’ve already found some. Over there, see? Next to some shoots from the shrub you’re looking at. Looks like the lot goes straight up the tree.” He checked his watch. Close to one in the morning. “Well, now we wait. Might as well make ourselves comfortable.”

With that, he pulled a tea towel out of his pocket, inscribing an arc with his wand and muttering “ _Engorgio!”_ A moment later, it had become a full-sized blanket. He seated himself, stretching his long legs with another yawn.

Clearly, he concluded, Granger had failed to think of the idea herself and now had nothing to sit on but her woollen cloak, judging by the chagrined expression on her face. 

_Ah, what the fuck._ Surprising both of them, he found himself gesturing for her to join him; with a grateful little smile, she did so, tucking her legs beneath her and stretching out on her side. Huddling beneath their cloaks for added warmth, they lay there, looking up through the lacework of bare, black branches. Overhead, the stars glittered white and cold in the inky December sky.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” she murmured, her eyes trained on the distant, twinkling canopy high above the tree line. “And so vast. Magical, really.”

Draco said nothing at first. The night sky, ineffable and enigmatic, had always made him feel very small and powerless. He preferred things he could touch, things he could control. 

“S’okay,” he answered finally. “I prefer real magic, though. The kind you do with a wand, or even better, without one.” He hadn’t yet reached that stage in his training, but the mastery of wandless magic was something he fervently aspired to. 

“But…” Hermione thought for a moment. “Wizards and witches have always searched for greater knowledge of our natural world and beyond. I read about it in _A History of Magic._ Understanding how things work is important! And I think that applies as much to what’s beyond the earth as what’s on it. I suppose that’s where Muggle science comes in, together with arithmancy and studying ley lines and runes, things like that – knowing what the ancients believed and how they preserved their beliefs in places like Newgrange and Stonehenge. They _knew_ things, Malfoy. And they wanted to pass them down. People have always wanted to understand what’s around them and how they fit into the grand scheme of things. We just haven’t always been able to work out what it was they wanted us to know.”

“Beyond a certain point, though, it’s all a lot of bollocks unless it can be proven.” Propping his cheek on his open palm, he regarded her intently. “Ancient aliens leaving messages in crop circles… what a load of rubbish!”

She chuckled quietly. “I agree. It’s pretty weird stuff, isn’t it, and ninety percent of it is probably crap. But what about the other ten percent? I don’t think we can dismiss everything out of hand. And do you mean you _really_ aren’t at all curious about what’s out there in space? The stars and planets? What’s beyond our universe?”

“You mean like ‘if the universe has an end, what’s beyond that? Does it ever really end, or does space just go on for infinity? And what is ‘infinity’ anyway?’ Just a fucking great mental wank, that’s all any of this is. We’ll never know the answers. Nobody will.” He gave a derisive snort of laughter and lay back, one arm cushioning his head.

Just then, something moved in the field of Hermione’s periphery. Sitting up, she turned her head to look, and there, sprouting on slender, scarlet stems and opening to the starlight and moon glow, were masses of small, delicate pink flowers. 

“Malfoy, look! It’s starting!” she breathed, pointing. As she did, more and more of the flowers opened, and alongside them, small, wine-red berries appeared. She darted a look at Draco, who was staring, open-mouthed, at the phenomenon happening before their eyes. “What time is it?”

Hurriedly, he checked his watch. “Just past one. That means we’ve got till about three to collect what we need.”

She nodded. “Right. But let’s wait until after the Solstice manifests and get our samples then. Who knows, maybe they’ll hold more magic if we do it that way. In the meantime, we can just enjoy it. It really is amazing!”

Even Draco couldn’t deny that this was true. As they watched, more and more of the delicate, trumpet-shaped flowers popped up and opened, clusters of the ripe fruit glistening in the mist. 

Above their heads, unseen, mistletoe berries tangled in dense foliage hung from a limb of the oak where they had spread, the berries pearly white and gleaming. Woven through the green were strands of the cranberry plant, encircling the berries with pink blossoms and lush, red fruit, all of it climbing from the base of the tree.

And then something very odd happened. Neither of them could explain it, because afterwards, neither had a proper memory of exactly what had transpired. But sleep must have overtaken them, because the next thing they knew, they were awakened by an earth-shattering clap of thunder rolling in from the west, followed by a fork of lightning illuminating the entire sky and bathing the forest in an eerie, white light. And then, it began to snow, just a dusting at first and then larger, more clearly defined flakes, swirling ever more thickly down through the tree branches as the thunder and lightning intensified.

The Solstice had arrived, ushered in by a spectacle rarely witnessed anywhere. They knew it as surely as they knew the magic in their own fingertips. 

“Silly!” Hermione laughed at herself nervously. “It’s just thunder, after all.”

Another huge bang and she jumped, huddling closer to Draco without thinking.

Flashes of lightning lit her face and hair, snowflakes dusting her cheeks and eyelashes. There was an unearthly, fay beauty about her, an ethereal delicacy in the planes of her face, her large, dark eyes, that soft, pliant mouth. Even her hair, wild as ever, seemed touched by faerie dust. 

Granted, he’d noticed – in a vague, distracted way – that she’d grown quite pretty in the last year or two. He’d never paid any attention to it, though, because it was Granger. But here, now… 

She was looking at him wide-eyed, like a timid doe sensing a potential predator in the forest. 

Wary, but not running. 

Moving closer, he dipped his head, bringing his mouth to within a hairsbreadth of hers, close enough that he could feel her breath fanning his face. It was delightfully sweet. 

Slowly, hardly daring to breathe, he pressed his mouth to hers in a gentle, tentative kiss lasting only a few seconds. Through the fog of his clouding brain and rapidly beating heart, he heard her make small sounds of surprise and pleasure, and then protest that the lovely sensation had stopped. Her hand crept to the nape of his neck, drawing him close again, and then she kissed him back.

This time, it wasn’t tentative, and it wasn’t brief.

Breaking away at last, they gazed at each other, flushed, breathless and suddenly, very self-conscious. As they did, the storm subsided, ending as quickly as it had begun, clouds parting like a curtain to reveal the moon and stars. Hastily, they busied themselves gathering the specimens and securing them in the boxes they’d brought. 

“We, uh… we should write up our findings, I suppose, before we forget everything,” Hermione murmured, blushing. “Do you remember what time it was when the thunderstorm and snow started?”

He shook his head. “Not exactly. Must’ve been round about two, though. It’s half two now. Another half hour and all this” – he swept his arm in a half circle – “will be gone again for another year.”

Silently, they gathered their things and prepared to return to the warmth and comfort of the school. Draco Shrunk the blanket back to a tea towel, stuffing it into his pocket. There was a curious feeling of melancholy about the prospect of returning, somehow. Something weird and very confusing and actually rather wonderful had happened in this hidden clearing beneath the ancient oak, and the magic of the Solstice was only part of it.

Looking back one final time at the beauty of the new snow frosting the trees and shrubbery, they turned towards the castle and began trudging back. Neither said a word for most of the walk, until suddenly, Hermione touched Draco’s arm.

“Are you…” She hesitated. “Are you going to the Yule Ball tomorrow night? I guess it’s actually tonight now, isn’t it.” 

He’d already decided against it. Stupid waste of time. School dances seemed so juvenile, so pointless, considering the really serious shit that was happening beyond Hogwarts’ walls. 

He’d meant to tell her no. He really had. Instead, he found himself asking, “Why?” 

“Most everybody will be there,” she went on, gathering her courage. “A lot of people are going on their own. Without dates, I mean. I thought… well… it could be fun.”

“Are you going?” Kicking a stone, he kept his voice casual and light, noncommittal.

“Mmm.” She nodded. “So… maybe I’ll see you there?”

Was that a hopeful note he’d heard in her question?

He shrugged lightly, pursing his lips to hide the tiny grin that threatened. “Yeah, I reckon… maybe…”

His tall silhouette dark against the bright, welcoming light of the castle’s Great Hall, Severus Snape stood on the steps, watching as his students straggled back from their adventure. Ah, Granger and Malfoy. He’d wondered what might happen when they came into contact with the flora in question, assuming they hadn’t killed each other first. Looking at the two of them now, he had his answer. So. Another pair he could enter into his notes, validating the secondary experiment he’d conducted tonight to test an age-old rumour about the Solstice enchantment of _Vaccinium oxycoccus_ : that combined with the innate power of _Viscum album,_ it could reveal an attraction already felt – albeit only subconsciously, perhaps – but not acknowledged, even to oneself. It had been a happy accident that he’d paired them together, considering that the odds of being partnered with the object of one’s hidden desire were practically nil. Not that such a minor technicality stopped some. Apparently for those intrepid few, love and lust refused to be denied, with hilarious or just plain ridiculous results. His mouth twitched, thinking about it. 

Malfoy and Granger, though… Disconcerting as the idea was, the potential for something of real substance was undeniably there as well. Perhaps even enough to divert young Draco from the dangerous path he was now on. Playing Cupid wasn’t a role the crusty potions master had ever aspired to, but he decided he had a definite talent for it.  
  
  
  
  
  


FIN

  
  
  


[](http://s136.photobucket.com/user/miriamele3/media/Dramione/map_of_hogwarts_grounds_and_environs_by_nephilim_phoenix-d5bmpep_1.jpg.html)  
Map by nephilim phoenix  
  
[](http://s136.photobucket.com/user/miriamele3/media/Dramione/article-2311612-1962E523000005DC-541_634x818.jpg.html)  
Ancient oak  
  
  
[](http://s136.photobucket.com/user/miriamele3/media/Dramione/6354_1.jpg.html) [](http://s136.photobucket.com/user/miriamele3/media/Dramione/e2b8756e-4f45-4cda-97e1-60423c264658.jpg.html) [](http://s136.photobucket.com/user/miriamele3/media/miriamele3015/Vaccinium_oxycoccos_fruit.jpeg.html)  
Cranberry blossoms and fruit, _Vaccinium oxycoccus_  
  
  
[](http://s136.photobucket.com/user/miriamele3/media/miriamele3015/6a00d8341bf67c53ef017c34bf7568970b-800wi.jpg.html) [](http://s136.photobucket.com/user/miriamele3/media/Dramione/800px-MistletoeInSilverBirch.jpg.html)  
Mistletoe berries and foliage, _Viscum album_  
  
  
[](http://s136.photobucket.com/user/miriamele3/media/Dramione/snow-storm%20by%20xxxrmt.jpg.html)  
“Thundersnow,” Scotland. Photo by xxxrmt  
  
  
[ ](http://s136.photobucket.com/user/miriamele3/media/Dramione/1479023_583171681737234_1134670289_n.jpg.html)[](http://s136.photobucket.com/user/miriamele3/media/Dramione/tumblr_mc0qjqy6VA1roqa6ro1_500-1_1.jpg.html)  
The Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my lovely beta, mister_otter, who amazes me with her spot-on observations, intuition, keen ear, and lightning-fast turnaround.
> 
> Many thanks to viridianne, who created the breathtaking image of Draco and Hermione on the verge of a kiss (left). Thanks so much, as well, to the manip artist who created the beautiful image on the right.
> 
> Finally, many thanks to whoever nominated me for this fest. Advent is a favorite, and I love writing for it!
> 
> The weather phenomenon known as "thundersnow" is very rare indeed. I've experienced it myself and it is an awesome and freakishly beautiful display of nature's power. The world is a swirling mass of white, punctuated by flashes of lightning and booming thunder.


End file.
